


What Happens After

by anavkour



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minimal Cursing, Post-Game, because i haven't gotten it yet jdfhkjs, leon's tragic double standard, no dlc content, raileon if you squint a little, what are tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anavkour/pseuds/anavkour
Summary: “Lee,” Raihan’s voice is still quiet, tinged with steel. “Take. A. Break.”It’s a shock to both of them when Leon finally does, falling to his knees, hands knotting in the cape he’d thrown aside so carelessly earlier, ducking his head so Raihan can’t see his face past the brim of his hat. He can hear a sigh from Raihan, likely of relief, but Leon can’t help but imagine it’s also from exasperation.Don’t worry,he wanted to say.I’m tired of putting up with me too.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	What Happens After

“Leon, you need to give your Pokémon a break,” Raihan says. His eyes are tired. “You need to give _yourself_ a break.”

Leon knows this. He knows his team needs to rest, heal up, and take a breather. He knows he needs it as well. He can feel Charizard’s exhaustion, like a dumbbell between his shoulder blades. But he can’t stop. Not now. Not until he stops feeling so goddamn _inadequate_. 

He still couldn’t quite believe it. How long had it been since the Cup? Two, three weeks, maybe four. He couldn’t remember. Everything blurred together. He could barely remember what had happened in between losing the Cup and ending up here, in the Hammerlocke Vault, battling his rival to get some sort of sick pleasure from beating the shit out of his team. It wasn’t working. Even though he’d won, over and over, against every team they could put together, through every type of weather Raihan could throw at him, it felt hollow. 

“Lee,” Raihan says gently. It’s all Leon can do not to yell at him, tell him not to use that tone of voice right now, not when he’s already so close to flying apart into a million tiny pieces. Something’s dripping down his face: sweat, or tears, he doesn’t know; he’s staring at the ground and it’s scorched and blurry around the edges. 

“Lee, Listen to me.”

“No,” Leon chokes out. “No, no, _no._ ”

“Lee,” Raihan’s voice is still quiet, tinged with steel. “Take. A. Break.”

It’s a shock to both of them when Leon finally does, falling to his knees, hands knotting in the cape he’d thrown aside so carelessly earlier, ducking his head so Raihan can’t see his face past the brim of his hat. He can hear a sigh from Raihan, likely of relief, but Leon can’t help but imagine it’s also from exasperation. 

_Don’t worry_ , he wanted to say. _I’m tired of putting up with me too._

Leon never thought Raihan of all people would be the one to tell him to calm down. Rai was so high energy, all fire and power and electricity—that’s what made him such a great rival. He could match Leon’s enthusiasm in a way no one else could. But now, he’s the one telling Leon to stop, slow down, and rest. 

_Not forever_ , he reminds himself, even though it feels like he’s giving up completely, once and for all. _You’re not stopping forever._

Footsteps, and then Raihan’s crouching in front of him. He tips Leon’s head back with one finger under his chin, looks him in the eye. 

“You are not a failure.”

Of course he knew. He’d always known exactly what Leon was thinking, ever since they were kids. Or maybe it was written all over his face that clearly. 

“But I lost,” Leon’s voice grates his throat. “I’m not the Champion anymore.”

“Well, yeah, you failed, _once_ , but that doesn’t make you a _failure_ ,” Raihan replies. “How many times have I lost against you?”

“Uh…”

“At least ten, probably more after all this,” Raihan says. “Honestly, I’m kind of offended that I count and you don’t. But my point is, with all my losses, would you call me a failure?” 

Leon shakes his head mutely.

“So if I’m not a failure,” Raihan cups Leon’s face in his hands, starting again before he can say what he really wants to say, something Raihan would definitely tease him about later, “why are you?” 

That logic is way too sound for Leon’s liking. But it doesn’t stop the knot of anger and frustration and despair and, alright, utter _loss_ he feels in his gut. In fact, it only makes it feel worse, like it’s going to spill out and he won’t be able to control it anymore. 

And then it does spill, not gracefully like he’d hoped it would if it came to it, but all at once in a big, ugly, violent torrent. Raihan’s eyes widen—Leon’s head is still cradled in Raihan’s hands and that’s the only thing keeping him upright—and as he shifts one hand to take Leon’s hat off, Leon’s already flinging his arms around his rival to sob into his shoulder. 

“There you go,” Raihan murmurs, one giant hand patting the back of Leon’s head.

Each heaving breath comes out feeling like broken glass at first. It _hurts_ , and Leon doesn’t know why the fuck it _hurts_ so much, in his throat, in his chest; all he can do is cry through it. By the end, he’s squeezing Raihan so tightly that when he lets go, he can feel Raihan’s ribs creak. His arms feel like cooked pasta; in fact, all of him does, he’s just one big limp noodle with a face like a marshmallow put in the microwave. 

“You alright?” Raihan noses the top of Leon’s head. Leon nods, smearing snot on Raihan’s hoodie and his own face. “There was a lot bottled up in there, huh?” Leon nods again, slower. “But it’s better now? At least a little?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Good,” Raihan pulls a couple of tissues out of his pocket, and Leon cleans his face. “Now, you can rest.” 

“Rest,” He doesn’t deserve it, he’s been pushing his body so long and so hard that it feels like punishment and it’s _sweet_. But one look at the thinly veiled desperation in Raihan’s eyes has him saying: “Rest. Yeah. That’s good.” 

**Author's Note:**

> woo this was written in February 2020, I just found it in my drafts and figured it looked clean enough to post. first fic i've ever posted! tear it to pieces. 
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr!](anavkour.tumblr.com)


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